Chapter Fourteen: The Assassin Captured

Inside the Crown Prince’s Residence.

The assassin appeared once again, launching another attack.

Just as the Crown Prince was about to step into his sedan chair, suddenly a feathered arrow shot through the air, aimed directly at him.

Such audacity was astonishing—Yang Jiguang was taken aback. He hadn’t expected these people to have become so brazen.

This was sheer viciousness; they would not stop until their goal was achieved. These individuals had to be eliminated by any means, or else they would surely bring disaster in the future.

Not far away on the rooftop, Yang Jiguang had also stationed men, ready for them.

At Yang Jiguang’s command, dozens of guards immediately drew their blades, spears, and bows and charged forward, launching a relentless assault on the assassin.

At that moment, their pent-up fury exploded; they would not rest until the assassin was dead. Only then would their burdens lighten, and they could find a moment’s peace.

The assassin, after traversing a dozen rooftops, looked down and was stunned.

Below were all the Crown Prince’s guards, and even worse, his arrow had missed the Crown Prince entirely.

This was a fatal blunder—losing more than he gained!

Though he had attempted assassination many times, the results were meager. Apart from eliminating a captured assassin, there had been little else to show for it.

“Come down, you can’t escape,” the guards called out, quietly closing in.

At that moment, not only the guards but also Crown Prince Zhao Hu himself approached, accompanied by Yang Jiguang and others.

“Seize the assassin! A heavy reward awaits!” Crown Prince Zhao Hu shouted loudly.

The guards in the Crown Prince’s residence hated the assassin deeply by now.

One by one, they swiftly closed in on the assassin on the rooftop.

The assassin’s situation was dire—he was surrounded by guards both below and on the rooftop.

It was a dead end.

At this point, the assassin understood that this had been a prearranged trap, designed to lure him out—and he was the unfortunate snake drawn into the open.

Yet, he refused to give up. He resolved to hold on until the very last moment.

Suddenly, the assassin drew another feathered arrow from his back, took aim at Crown Prince Zhao Hu below, preparing to repeat his trick.

With a whistle, the arrow flew toward Crown Prince Zhao Hu.

Zhao Hu had some skill himself, but as the Crown Prince, he needed to act convincingly, so he could not move about carelessly.

At the crucial moment, Yang Jiguang took over. He swung his great blade, striking the arrow mid-flight and knocking it aside.

Almost simultaneously, several guards nearby drew their bows and aimed at the assassin.

The assassin’s heart froze. He realized he was completely surrounded, with no chance of escape.

He decided to make a final desperate effort.

Sheathing his crossbow, the assassin drew the gleaming great blade at his waist, leapt from the rooftop, and charged toward Crown Prince Zhao Hu.

This was intentional. He knew success was unlikely now.

But he refused to be captured. His only hope was a desperate strike—either to break through or die by a hail of blades. Either was preferable to capture and suffering.

His mind remained clear in this moment—a rare clarity.

He swung his great blade fiercely at the Crown Prince.

The strike was powerful. He knew his mission was nearly a failure. If he could kill Li Chengqian, it would be a great success; if not, he would at least force the Crown Prince’s guards to kill him in a desperate fight.

Whichever way, this was his best option.

As expected, Yang Jiguang and his men quickly closed in, raising their weapons and launching a fierce counterattack.

Just as the assassin’s blade nearly struck the Crown Prince, Yang Jiguang and others arrived, meeting the blow with their own great blades.

The clash rang out with a deafening clang.

Meanwhile, Crown Prince Zhao Hu took shelter behind Yang Jiguang and the others.

The fight was brief—after only a few exchanges, the assassin’s strength waned. The Crown Prince’s guards had fully concentrated their forces, engaging in a fierce battle.

Under their relentless assault, the assassin could not hold out.

More crucially, the assassin’s spirit was broken. He had long realized his fate was sealed. Failure meant death.

He resolved to fight to the very end.

The battle was brutal but one-sided—completely disproportionate.

At that moment, Yang Jiguang found an opening and struck the assassin’s thigh with his great blade.

The wound caused the assassin to falter, no longer daring to act rashly.

Yang Jiguang’s strike was not overly forceful, yet it drew blood.

“Increase the attack—capture him alive!” Yang Jiguang shouted, pressing the assault with his blade.

Many guards surged forward, striking at the assassin with deadly intent.

These guards were formidable warriors, and this was a carefully planned battle by Yang Jiguang.

Everything had unfolded exactly as anticipated—a trap set to lure the assassin in.

Unexpectedly, the assassin had indeed fallen for it and even launched a fierce attack on Yang Jiguang and the others.

But Yang Jiguang knew the assassin’s chances were gone—now he was simply a trapped beast fighting desperately.

This was all expected, with no surprises.

The assassin lifted his great blade, ready for one last struggle. Despite his predicament, he still held some hope for the future, believing things might improve.

But fate quickly delivered a harsh blow.

Yang Jiguang and his men moved swiftly, their blades and spears relentlessly attacking.

The assassin’s situation grew increasingly desperate.

He was no match for them, and with their intensified assault, how could he endure?

As they fought, Yang Jiguang wondered aloud, “There can’t be just one assassin—shouldn’t there be several?”

“Some of you fall back and keep watch—see if he has accomplices,” Yang Jiguang quietly instructed a few guards.

They obeyed, stepping back to observe from a distance.

Yang Jiguang led the rest in continuing the fight.

Though they called it a fight, the outcome was already decided; the assassin had no chance.

This was his only shot, and yet no shot at all.

With so many enemies, escape was impossible.

At this point, the assassin had only two options: either cease resistance or commit suicide, dying with some dignity; or hold out to the last moment, still destined to be captured or killed.

His situation was hopeless—there was no chance to turn the tide.

Any attempt to change the outcome would be futile, only leading to humiliation.

“Tell me who your accomplices are. If you speak, I promise your life will be spared,” Yang Jiguang tried to persuade the assassin amid the fight.

This was the critical moment. Yang Jiguang hoped to gain the best intelligence with the least cost.

If they could uncover the mastermind behind the scenes, all problems would be solved.

The assassin heard this but clenched his teeth tightly.

“Ease up a bit, let him catch his breath,” Yang Jiguang said with a wry smile.

He understood that pressing too hard would be counterproductive. Haste makes waste.

By easing the pressure, the assassin might soon speak, allowing Yang Jiguang to achieve his goal.

If they continued to press relentlessly, the assassin might break out or resort to extremes.

Giving him time provided space to think; eventually, he would realize that survival was paramount.

“Alive” is a simple word to write, yet one many relentlessly pursue.

“Death” is easy to utter but rare to embrace with true resolve.

Given time, the assassin’s resolve to die began to waver.

He was not foolish—he knew survival was the true way.

Who would choose death if not cornered?

As long as survival was possible, even barely clinging on, everyone would choose life.

“Come on, speak up,” Yang Jiguang pressed, approaching the assassin and intensifying the attack.

The assassin became flustered; blood flowed steadily from his wounded leg, his face pale.

Yang Jiguang knew he couldn’t hold out much longer; collapse was only a matter of time.

This was Yang Jiguang’s moment—pressing and easing the assault alternately, and most importantly, he had ordered to capture the assassin alive.

The assassin was torn inside.

“I…” He opened his mouth to speak, but as Yang Jiguang’s blade swung down again, he had to raise his own blade to block.

He swallowed his words.

“Speak, I’m listening,” Yang Jiguang said, withdrawing his blade and standing quietly.

The assassin clenched his teeth and finally spoke, “If I tell you, will I really live?”

“Of course. If you tell the truth, I guarantee your life,” Yang Jiguang nodded.

“Can I trust your word? Why should I believe you?” The assassin was doubtful.

“The Crown Prince himself promises that. You can trust him, can’t you?” Yang Jiguang gestured, and the guards lowered their weapons, standing nearby.

“Hmm, if the Crown Prince says so, then I trust him,” the assassin resolved, deciding to believe Li Chengqian.

Regardless of other matters, the title “Crown Prince” carried immense weight—it was the most powerful princely rank in the Tang Empire.

Others paled in comparison.

Even though King Wei Li Tai held great honors, he was still not the Crown Prince.

Though seemingly a small difference, the gap was vast.

Princes were merely sons of Emperor Taizong, while the Crown Prince was the heir to the empire.

Princes without the crown never rose to prominence; the Crown Prince, with time, could ascend the throne.

This was the fundamental difference.

“Come with me. You, disarm him,” Yang Jiguang ordered, waving his hand.

The guards hurried forward, removing the assassin’s great blade, then escorted him before Li Chengqian.

“Your Highness, the assassin says he has important information to share,” Yang Jiguang quickly told Crown Prince Zhao Hu, signaling him.

“Come inside. It’s inconvenient to speak out here,” Zhao Hu said, turning to enter.

Yang Jiguang and the others escorted the assassin into the nearby main hall.

Suddenly, a figure in black appeared on the rooftop again. The man drew his bow and aimed at the escorted assassin.

With a “whiz,” a feathered arrow flew forth.

Fortunately, Yang Jiguang anticipated this and quickly pulled the assassin aside.

Still, the arrow struck the assassin’s arm.

Agonizing pain swept over him instantly.

The assassin was shocked—he realized he was being silenced.

“Protect him!” Yang Jiguang shouted, grabbing his bow and shooting at the rooftop attacker.

“Fall quickly and pretend to be fatally wounded,” Yang Jiguang whispered to the assassin.

By now, the assassin understood he was merely a pawn to his masters; now useless, he was a liability to be eliminated.

He collapsed, severely wounded and overwhelmed by sorrow, fainting.

“Quick, carry him inside for treatment!” Yang Jiguang called out, raising his bow and firing two more arrows at the rooftop assassin.

Not only Yang Jiguang but many guards had their bows trained on the rooftop figure, firing arrow after arrow.

They went into a frenzy, hunting down the rooftop assassin.

Guards rushed everywhere—on roofs and streets—following Yang Jiguang’s meticulous plan.

Their sole aim: to capture the assassin completely.

However, since their attention was focused on the captured assassin, the rooftop attacker found an opening and vanished after weaving through the rooftops.

Yang Jiguang was unsurprised—this was acceptable.

Especially since they had captured one assassin, the chain of evidence was about to unfold.

Whether they caught this second assassin immediately was less important.

With this in mind, Yang Jiguang ceased the pursuit after a symbolic chase and returned.

Inside the main hall, Crown Prince Zhao Hu was directing guards to summon the palace physician to attend to the assassin.

“Your Highness, he is alright—just overwhelmed with grief and seriously wounded. Two doses of medicine will surely cure him!” the physician said confidently.

“Reward him,” Zhao Hu said softly, waving his hand.

The Crown Prince knew he was merely playing the role; the fewer words spoken, the better.

“Yes, Your Highness!” The guards bowed quickly, bringing the reward to the doctor, who gratefully departed.

At that moment, Yang Jiguang and his men returned.

“Your Highness, how is he?” Yang Jiguang asked as he entered.

“No major issues. The physician has examined him; he will recover soon. He is just heartbroken and disheartened, and you wounded him badly.”

“The physician has removed the arrow and applied medicine.”

Seeing Yang Jiguang returned, Crown Prince Zhao Hu’s confidence visibly returned; he responded calmly and clearly.

Yang Jiguang nodded. This guard was indeed capable; his appearance and stature closely resembled the Crown Prince, enough to deceive even close observers.

Having such a man was a great asset to the Crown Prince’s safety.

“Send word to Lu Liangping immediately. Inform him of the situation,” Yang Jiguang instructed a soldier who swiftly rode off.

Though outwardly notifying Lu Liangping, Yang Jiguang knew the final decision would rest with the Crown Prince.

Everything was unfolding as expected, progressing swiftly.

Thanks to the physician’s treatment, the captured assassin finally regained consciousness after more than an hour.

Everyone held their breath.

The moment to unravel the mystery had arrived; all shadows would soon be dispelled by the bright sun.

“Give him some water to drink, let him regain strength,” Yang Jiguang ordered hurriedly.

“Commander Yang, Lu Liangping has arrived,” a guard reported.

“Let him in,” Yang Jiguang said, feeling reinvigorated.

Soon, Lu Liangping and Li Chengqian’s entourage appeared before them.

All understood that a momentous matter was about to be resolved, and they all instinctively looked toward Crown Prince Zhao Hu...